


Gather the kindling

by BitterChocolateStars



Series: Build it up, burn it down. [1]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Blood, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Minor Character Death, Project Freelancer, References to Drugs, Suicidal Thoughts, Violence, brief allusions to suicide, i needed a few uh spots filled for a thing, oc's are mentioned, runaways - Freeform, sorta - Freeform, tell me if i miss a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-30 22:37:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3954448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BitterChocolateStars/pseuds/BitterChocolateStars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're just trying to live normal lives as best as they can manage. All it takes is a psychopath and a shady government organization to tear it all down. Maybe, just maybe, they can salvage something from the rubble that resembles normal.</p><p>Part One: One must start from the beginning to understand where this is going.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter in an epic saga.  
> There's going to be a lot and it's going to be updated irregularly.  
> BUT i have the first chunk completely written up, free of charge.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Year: 2538

 

 

His name was Florida.

That's what they kept saying at least. Butch didn't really give a toss who they said he was. He had a job to do. A mission. Nothing got in the way of his mission. 

And his missions was this:

Two hours ago they released a group of freelancers onto the general populace of a small village on the coast of New New Mexico. To stop an insurrection takeover of the supposedly vital point. The details didn't matter. They never had before. 

His mission was to clean up whatever was left from the freelancers before him. He was assigned a small task force ,  he didn't need,  but enjoyed the company of . There were only four of them in all.  They were young, still in their early twenties, he knew for a fact that the serious young woman who called herself Kimball  was only nineteen, she had said as much on the pelican ride to the village while discussing birthday activities.

A gruff young man with a permanent scowl, he was the  S argent . That was all, giving no actual name the others opted to call him Sarge.  The woman,Kimball.  Who was much too serious, and much too kind. A young Doctor  Grey,  with  a few  psychosis issues  of her own, she had taken a shine to the Sargent. The man Doyle, much like the first girl, took things too seriously. Yet the two couldn't agree on anything.

 He ignored them  after the first hour long argument, he'd tried to get them to stop, but they ignored him . He liked them though , they  were a tough little group. They did their jobs with minimal complaining. After a while he waved them off to search t he village. 

As he walked through the village he would hear occasional gun fire from the task force. Not much. The freelancers from before  had done  a good job of clean up. He wasn't surprised by this.

H e rounded the backside of a metal shed he stopped dead in his tracks. The site in front of him was... Odd. The gruff young man from his task force was kneeling next to a boy with no lower legs. He was whispering to him in choppy Spanish.  It appeared he had tied what had used to be his undershirt around the wounds to stop the flow of blood. Butch was surprised the boy was alive at all. Still, helping civilians wasn't part of the mission. I t was in fact quite the opposite. 

"Sargent what are you doing?" He asked. The man startled. Whipping around and aiming his gun at Butch's chest. "What are you doing?" He repeated. Not at all worried by the gun.

"Agent Florida, this boy needs medical attention." The Sargent answered. The grip on his gun unwavering. His aim steady. He wasn't afraid.

This confused Butch. He was used to being feared by lower ranking military agents. To have a mere Sargent aim a gun at him was... Oddly  uncomfortable .

"Our mission is to clean up Sargent." He reminded the other man. The man twitched. A look taking over his face that told Butch all he needed to know. The man was not going to comply with his orders. " If you don't follow orders I'm gonna have to take you down for insubordination and no one wants t hat. " Butch sighed sadly.

"I ain't shooting a kid Agent." The man growled.

"Then you've made your choice." He'd actually started to like the man too. Maybe they could have been friends.  "I'm really sorry about this Sarge."

Butch moved too quickly for him to react. Knocking his gun from his hand and tossing it away.  Butch aimed his pistol at the mans head. The Sargent was a quick thinker though. Pulling his knife and aiming it for the  weak spot in Butch's armor. Butch dodged back, the blade narrowly missing his neck.  Butch had only a moment to wonder how he knew about that spot  before the Sargent got enough space between them  to kick the gun from Butch's hands. 

Butch  frowned  and pulled his own knife. This was  strange, fighting the  man over the life of a child . The Sargent launched himself at Butch expecting him to dodge. Instead Butch took the full brunt of the collision. Sending them both skidding across the mud. Butch made to slide his knife into the mans ribs but the Sargent kicked himself free in time. Rolling to a stop a few feet away. Butch didn't let up. Sliding to a stop he pounced on the man, stabbing his knife into the Sargent's thigh. It wasn't fatal, but it would keep him down for a while.

"Fuck!" The Sargent cried out. 

Butch ripped the man ' s  knife from his hands. Stepping away in case the man was foolish enough to pull Butch's knife free in a bid to stab him. He turned and picked up his pistol.

"Orders are orders Sargent. We must obey them." He lowered  the gun to the boys head. The boy was thankfully unconscious by this point.

"We shouldn't have  ta shoot children 'cause someone told us too!" The man yelled behind him. Desperately trying to stop him.

Maybe it was a fleeting moment of clarity. Or perhaps the Sargent had gotten a hit in before his  defeat and Butch had yet to notice the blood loss.  Butch wasn't sure what made him pause. What made him really look at the situation that seemed so odd to him. That this man would disobey orders to save a single child. Something shifted in Butch's head. A small spark of understanding.

They shouldn't have to shoot children.  They were children.  Not insurrectionist leaders. They weren't terrorists. They were innocents. Sarge had every right to refuse to kill the boy.  Butch had every right to refuse to kill Sarge. Command wouldn't see it like that.  If he didn't do this right they would all be shot on sight. 

Why did everything have to be so darn complicated?

He tossed the gun and radioed the others. "All personnel return to the ship. That's an order." He looked down it the Sargent that could have been his friend. "As for you. You're dead. Change your name. Move to a new city. Take the boy with you." He turned to leave when the man called back.

"Why?" He asked. Clutching at his leg.

"Because you're right. We shouldn't have to shoot kids because someone ordered it" With that said he left the man and child  in the mud behind the metal shed.

When asked later what happened by a distraught Doctor Grey. He told her that Sarge had gone down with a knife in his back from an insurrectionist mad man.

That was the last he thought of the man until years later.


	2. Leonard E. Church

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2540:  
> His name was Leonard Epsilon Church and he was the Directors son.

 

His name was Leonard Epsilon Church and he was the Directors son. He had black hair and green eyes. He looked just like his father.  The boy hated his father. Not that he'd ever met the man. As surprising as that was considering they lived in the same building. Well compound would be a better term.  But there were pictures hanging up around the rooms.  A stern faced man always watching. Always disapproving. Butch had always wanted to take them down, but it wasn't his place.

Butch had been ordered to watch over the boy. Make sure he didn't leave his quarters. Didn't stir up trouble. Didn't talk to anyone. After eight escape attempts it was getting obvious they wouldn't stop. The boy wanted out too badly. He was only 12.  Freedom was in his nature.

Butch caught him at least four times a night trying to climb out a window. It had become almost comfortable. A  routine that Butch enjoyed as much as the company he kept.  Butch had become attached.

That's where this whole situation rooted from. He'd gotten attached to the boy and the Director put out a kill order on his own son.  A defect he'd called him.  "A failed project no longer worth my time." were his exact words.  It made Butch's blood boil. Church was a good kid. No one had the right to call him those things. Especially not a father who wasn't there.  There was no possible way Butch could follow those orders.

Butch was finishing up packing a bag for the boy. Planning to have him out of the city before anyone figured out what was going on.  Before the Director sent a hit out on him as well.  He needed to get them out quickly before the clean up team showed up at the door if he wanted that to happen.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Church asked from his seat on the bed.

"Watch your language."  Butch reprimanded distractedly. Shoving another pair of pants in the bag.

"Sorry." Church muttered before asking again "Really, what are you doing?"

"We're leaving."  He explained closing and tossing the bag to the boy.

"Leaving? I'm not allowed to leave Agent Florida." The boy pointed out.

Butch cringed. "Call me Butch, or Flowers. Either ones fine."  He hustled the boy from the room, taking care not to make too much of a scene. He didn't want the boy to panic.

"Okay, Butch. I'm not supposed to leave. Why are we leaving?" Church asked again. Butch sighed. Sometimes this kid was too stubborn .

"Going on vacation." He lied. Church knew it too going by the deepening scowl on his face. "Look I'll explain everything later, right now we need to leave."

"Are you breaking me out?" he asked following Butch out of his quarters for the first time in his life. He looked around eagerly.

"Yes Church, i'm breaking you out, so you need to stay close alright." Butch reached back and took Church's hand. Church startled a bit, confused. After a moment he squeezed Butch's hand. Butch realized at that moment that Church had never held anyone's hand before. He felt immediately guilty. If only he'd thought to take the kid out of here before now. He couldn't have saved the kid from much, but he could have saved him from the  Freelancer Desertion that happened a few years back. The reason Church was locked away for good.

There had been an incident a while back, one of the Children had been smuggled out. Once a happy and cheerful guy Agent Kansas had seemed to just snapped. Smuggling out such an important Child in the dead of night. He hadn't gotten far before they caught him and the child. Killing both Kansas and his accomplice Agent Michigan. The child had been brought back kicking and screaming. The third accomplice, Agent Connecticut, had slipped free. A shame. Butch would have liked to ask her a few questions about Project  Rebirth. Find out just what in the heck was going on with the influx of children into the program. Find out where they're being picked up from. Why they weren't allowed to leave.  


After that not a day passed where a Freelancer didn't defect. Just the other day Agent's North and South Dakota defected. Two of the youngest Agent's, the twins had argued for days before slipping out in the dead of night. Response team one hadn't found them yet. Butch doubted they would.

Butch peeked around the corner to hanger four. Empty. He gave a sigh of relief, tugging Church's  hand gently to get him moving forward. He loaded Church into the first jeep they came across. 

"Stay here, stay down. Don't let anyone see you. Not a single person alright?"

"Alright. Where are you going?" Church asked nervously.

"I have to get the keys."  Butch reassured him. He made a break for the security room. When he got there he saw the keys for the jeep were gone. 

"Looking for these Florida?" Tex asked. Butch had his gun raised before he'd even turned completely. She had her's raised as well. In her other hand she was holding the keys to the jeep.

"Texas. Give me the keys." He ordered. Holding his empty hand out for them.

"Where are you taking him?" She asked, twirling the keys around her finger.

"Away from here. I thought you of all people would be happy about that."

She laughed. "True, what about the others?"

"The other Agents are out on a mission."

"I'm talking about the kids." She corrected.

 Butch grimaced. The children trapped here. Trapped in a program no one seemed to know about. He would have loved to help them.  "Th ere's nothing I can do for them." He sighed. He felt guilty for leaving the other children but he was right. He couldn't get all of them out without an uproar. Tex was looking into it though. She had been since the start.  It was surprising the things you could find out just by asking nicely.

She nodded sadly. "Can you do me a favor?" She  asked.

Butch eyed her suspiciously. "A small one." 

Tex pulled something from a pocket on her suit. "Watch this alone, it should explain things.  Don't let Leonard find it."  She tossed him a small plug drive.  "I know what he means to you Butch, watch that and you'll know what he really means to me." She paused for a moment, composing herself. "I took care of things, you should be able to drive right out of here without issue. Keep him safe." She tossed him the keys and walked away.

"Thank you." Breathing a sigh of relief he hurried back to the jeep.  He owed her a debt now, one he would happily repay.

"Are we leaving now?" Church asked eagerly as Butch climbed into the drivers seat.   


"Yup, and might I say, I'm pleased as punch to get out of here."  As he drove away he couldn't help but wonder where he'd go. It was only as they drove passed an army recruiting center that he got an idea.

He was going to find Sarge.


	3. Lavernius Tucker & Michael J. Caboose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2540: Six Months Later:  
> Butch finds a young boy walking down the street outside his shop. He's limping and has a nasty bruise on his cheek. He looks like a runaway and Butch can't stop himself from offering the kid something warm from the bakery him and Sarge opened two months before.  
> \-----  
> 2541: Three Months After That:  
> One could say Caboose found them. Or....well, he found Church and followed him home like a puppy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> their chapters were so tiny i meshed them together.

 

 

 

Butch finds  a young boy  walking down the street  outside his shop in the middle of winter . He's limping and has a nasty bruise on his cheek. He looks like a runaway and Butch can't stop himself from offering the kid something warm from the bakery he  and Sarge  opened two months before.

The kid eyes him warily but follows him in. His left right hand is stuffed in his pocket, Butch knows he's gripping a small knife. Can tell by the way his arm is held out from his side, ready to pull the knife if Butch tries something funny.  Butch seats him at the counter and places a pastry and glass of warm tea in front of him. He takes care of the few customers he has before returning to the boy.  He's glad it's Sarge's day off.  The man would throw such a fit.

"So..." he starts casually. "Can I get your name?"

The boy eyed him  again . He was polite enough to swallow his bite of pastry before answering. "Lavernius Tucker." He introduced himself .  The name is seems familiar, thinks he might have heard the name once or twice on the news. Butch keeps that to himself. There's a reason this kid is here now and not back home.

"Nice to meet you Lavernius, I'm Butch Flowers." He held out his hand for the boy to shake.

"Call me Tucker." The boy muttered. He shook Butch's hand before turning back to his tea.

Butch sees the way he sits, the way he eats. He wonders if the boy came down from Sector one. Always a scandal happening where the big cats live. Always a child left out in the cold. "You want to tell me what happened to your face?" Butch asked motioning to the bruise.

Tucker sniffed. "I got punched in the face." He said like it was no big deal. Butch raised a brow. Tucker gets twitchy. Fidgeting and looking anywhere but at Butch. "Look man thanks for the tea but I need to go. Got places to be." He turned to scoot off the stool.

"Do you?" Butch asked before he could.

Tucker paused.  "Do I what?"  He asked confused.

"Have a place to go. Cause I just moved to town with my son , we have an extra bed you can take ."  He knows what he's offering might be a bad idea. He can't just leave this child out on the street.

"You're offering me a place to stay?" Tucker asked skeptically. "I'm an eleven year old runaway. Say you're serious and not some weirdo, what  makes you  think  the police or something won't show up?"

Butch laughed. This kids smart. "Well because I'm a bit smarter than the average baker."

"You some sort of cop?" Tucker asked. Scowling at him.

"Ex-military ." He lied easily. Unlike Church ,  Tucker seemed unable to read through his lies. Well it wasn't an entire lie. 

"Cool." Tucker smiled. "So uh, you aren't some weirdo right?"

"I hope not."

* * *

 

 

 

 

One could say Caboose found them. Or.... well, he found Church while he and Tucker on their way home from school an d followed him home like a puppy.

"Who's your friend?" Butch asked looking up from his book as the trio of boys walked through the door.  Tucker and Church tossing their backpacks on the floor next to the door.

"Hello mister!" The new face of the group smiled brightly.  A tall boy with dusty brown hair sticking up all over the place.

"No idea, followed me home." Church muttered heading into the  kitchen for a glass of juice.

"Church!" The boy whined. "I told you already my name is Caboose."

"He knows, h e's just pretending to be cool."  Tucker informed him. Moving to sit down on the couch across from Butch.  He pried his shoes off and tossed them over with the backpacks.

Church walked back out of the kitchen and handed the glass to Caboose, who took it eagerly. "You don't mind  if he stays with us do you?" Church asked. Showing Caboose to a chair.

Butch couldn't help but be amused by what he was watching. "Well if he needs it you know I don't mind. Can I ask a few question?"

"Shoot." Church said. Flopping down in the remaining empty seat.   


"Well where is he from?"

"Caboose where are you from?" Tucker asked the boy.

"My house. I  have eighteen sisters and one mom. But then some mean men came and we had to leave, I think I'm lost though because  I don't know where my sisters went." Caboose answered, sipping at his juice.

"How old are you Caboose?" Butch asked.

"I am nine. That is what the nice Grey doctor says."

"Grey doctor?" Butch inquired.

"Yes, she says her name is Emily but everyone calls her  Grey ."

Butch smiled gently. "Emily Grey, she's a very nice lady." 

Caboose gave him a weird look. "She scares me."

Butch figures since he knows Emily, he has to be from the outer section of the city. Probably from a group house then. They've been closing a lot of those down recently.  Meaning this child was homeless.

"Well Caboose you're more than welcome to  stay here."

"Now I can stay with my very best friend Church!" He cheered. 

"Hey what about me?" Tucker asked, offended.  "I actually helped you."

"And Tucker." Caboose  sighed .


	4. Dexter Grif

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2543:  
> Sarge was pissed. He'd been tricked into coming over for a family dinner with Flowers and the boys, only for the man to ask him to do something he swore he wouldn't do again.

 

Sarge was pissed. He'd been tricked into coming over for a family dinner with Flowers and the boys,  only for the man to ask him to do something he swore he wouldn't do again. 

"I said no Flower's. Drop it." He growled. Arms crossed over his chest as he frowned at the man.

"Sarge, please. I know you said after  Caboose that we shouldn't  take in anymore homeless kids but just look at him!" Butch pleaded. Gesturing wildly to the unconscious boy on his pull out  couch. 

"I also said it after Church, and  Tucker."  Sarge scowled. The kid looked like he'd been put through the ringer. His too long hair greasy and matted in places was splayed around his head like a messy halo. His clothes were too small and his shoes had seen better days. There was bruises and dried blood spatte re d  here and there on his  clothes . He couldn't have been more than fifteen.

Sarge frowned harder. "This isn't my problem. I don't do this. I can't. Not after last time." He said remembering what happened after he took in his current charge Lopez. The poor boy wasn't even that younger than his 23 but Sarge couldn't stop himself from viewing the boy as a son. A son he'd had to hide from the authority. If the council ever found out he was an outsider they would  detain him faster that a drug lord skipping through customs at an airport. 

He wasn't going to do it all over again. The fake papers. The fake life. It was too risky. He'd already had people sniffing around  after Butch showed up with Church. 

"Why don't you take him in?" He asked his old friend.

"I would, but I have the other three boys to watch after." Butch sighed motioning towards his boys  room. Church, Tucker and Caboose. The three teens Sarge had dubbed the Blues due to thier 'leader' Church being so moody all the time. The three were runaways themselves. Though  Caboose  wasn't really a runaway, just a kid with no home but this one.

Sarge glared at the kid again. It wasn't the kids fault he was stuck in this situation. Hell, Sarge himself had been in this situation. A runaway at 16. Ready for life away from his crazy father. Not ready for life closer to death on the streets.

"Where'd you find him?" Sarge asked reluctantly.

"I was leaving the bakery when I found him bleeding out back  by the dumpsters. He wasn't really coherent at the time. Looked like he'd been drugged." Butch admitted, wringing his hands nervously.

"Or doing drugs." Sarge added. It wouldn't be the first time a kids turned to drugs while living on the streets. Much easier to live inside your head and detached from reality.

"Sarge, I am an ex-freelancer. I know the signs. His knuckles are bloody and the puncture wo u nd is on his shoulder blade. I don't think he was shooting up, I think he was fighting against some freak before I showed up ! "  Butch spit out angrily. This caused the boy on the bed to let out a small scared moan. The first sound Sarge has heard him make since he got here.

"Hey, it ' s  okay. Your safe here." Butch leaned over the boy. Checking his pulse and feeling his head in case he had a fe ver. "Can you hear me?" He asked in case the boy was waking up.

The boy opened his eyes and stared blearily around the room.

" Whe -" he started before choking of with a horrible sounding cough.

"Your in my house, I found you outside my work and brought you somewhere safe. Are you thirsty?" Butch explained, helping the boy sit up. He waited until the boy nodded before handing him the glass of water off the table.  "Can you tell us your name?"

The boy finished off the glass before eyeing the room again. "Why am I here?" He  asked, ignoring Butches question . His voice hoarse and cracking.

"I found you bleeding behind my work and brought you home."

The boy eyed them both before seeming to come to a conclusion about his current situation. "You two are some sort of creepy freaks who prey on kids aren't you? And now I'm stuck in your lair." He said completely deadpan before coughing and adding "I should inform you that I will not be part of whatever freaky shit you got planned, and I will break your fuckin hands if you touch me."

Butch jerked back like he'd been slapped by Jesus. The look on his face one of complete horror. He opened and closed his mouth a few times. Unable to respond. "What?!" Was the only thing he managed to choke out.

Sarge couldn't help it. Even if he felt  ang r y  at the boys calm reaction to what could have been a deadly situation. He started laughing. Causing Butch to turn and glare at him.

"Sarge explain this instant that I'm not some pervert!" Butch ordered.

"Why would I believe a word he said? If he's working with you he's going to lie." The boy pointed out.

"I'm not a pervert!" Butch cried. Red faced with embarrassment.

"Says the man who brought home an unconscious teenager and put them in bed." The teen  muttered .

Sarge laughed harder. God he already liked this kid. He sobered instantly at the thought. He did like the kid. He couldn't get attached. It would only lead to trouble.  He needed to sort this out quickly.

"What's your name?"  Sarge cut into their arguing.

He pondered over his answer for a moment, debating giving his real name or not. In the end he shrugged and answered. "Grif."

"Do you have  anywhere  to stay?" Sarge followed up.

The boy looked startled. "...Yeah." He hesitated. Obviously lying. Or at the very least lying about wanting to stay there.

Sarge called him on it "Is it a safe place?" 

The greasy haired boy  bit his lip  and  nodded  his head. He wasn't looking at  Sarge , instead he was looking outside at the rain. The cold rain.  He seemed to be waiting for Sarge to tell him to leave.

"Sé que quieres hacerlo."  Lopez spoke up for the first time that night from his seat at the kitchen table. "Al menos esto se puede hablar el idioma,  sería  un error que le enviara de vuelta al frío."

Fucking hells bells. Even his right hand man was talking him into it.

Sarge let out a long painful sigh. "You can stay with me. I have strict rules and expect you to follow them. They are for your safety," he paused, taking in the kids tired face. "But we'll get to those tomorrow, why don't you head across the hall and take a shower. There ' s  an extra set of pajama pants in the hallway closet as well as whatever else you need." He informed the boy. Motioning  for  Lopez to help the kid over there.

"Holy shit! Are you a robot?" The boy asked when he saw Lopez's artificial legs.

"No, idiota."  Lopez answered.

Once they were gone he rubbed his face with his  callused  hands. "This isn't going to end well Butch. I can feel it in these very bones."

"I hate to tell you but nothings ever gone well for us. Just pray this one doesn't have murderous family looking for him." Butch patted him on the shoulder in sympathy. "The least we can do is try protecting these kids from the people who did this to them."

"Yeah." He agreed heading for the door before stopping and glaring at Butch. "This is it Butch. No more kids. Not a single one." 

Butch nodded. "I promise Sarge. No more kids."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lopez Translations: 
> 
> (google translator used. please help if something is wrong) 
> 
> "I know you want to do it." 
> 
> "At least this one can speak the language, it would be a mistake to send him back out into the cold." 
> 
> "No idiot."


	5. Richard 'Dick' Simmons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2543:  
> Three months later Richard Simmons moved in.

 

 

Three months later Richard Simmons moved in.

To be fair this time it was Sarge himself who found the kid. He was walking home from Emily's when he spotted a flash of red over the side of the bridge.

He paused and walked slowly to the edge. Curiously peeking over the side. His stomach dropped when he saw what looked like a twelve year old kid sitting on the edge of the support beam.

"What in the Sam hell at you doing!?" He demanded. Not his best idea.

The kid startled, foot skidding over the ledge as his body jerked. He latched on to the beam next to him to stop himself from falling. He stared up at Sarge with a terrified look on his face. Pressing back into the beam to be as far from Sarge as he could.

"Go away!" The kid shouted. 

"Like hell I'm going away! It's dangerous to play down there!" 

"I'm not playing!" The boy growled. "Why can't you people take me seriously for once!" He shouted. Tears welling up in his eyes. Sarge realized then that the kid thought he was someone else. Someone he obviously didn't want to see.

"Look kid, I'm just lookin' to get you up here away from the ledge. After that I don't give a damn what you do. It dangerous down there, you could fall!" He tried to reason. "I just want to help!" He repeated. The kid shook his head. 

"They all lie Simmons, it's a fact of life that you have to accept." He said to himself. Obviously quoting someone else's words. Sarge would have to step lightly with this one.

"Look, Simmons was it? I don't know  what's going on but I swear that I won't make you do anything you don't want to do." He promised. 

"What if  I don't want to climb back up?" The kid asked, refusing to look at Sarge.

"Well then I guess I could climb down with you, make sure you don't fall." He was starting to feel a little like panicking. He was catching on quickly as to why the kid would be down there in the first place.

"You don't have the balance to climb down." The kid stated. "Your injury probably stops you from lifting your left leg high enough to climb over in the cold weather."

Sarge froze. "How did you know about that?"  He asked cautiously. He didn't know what he'd do if the kid turned out to be a Freelancers son... Or a Freelancer project.  Those people would never stop hunting this kid if that were the case.  He didn't want another Church situation.

"You were limping, I could tell, your footsteps were uneven. Like my dads." He explained. Arms tightening around the beam. Sarge relaxed a bit at that.

"Simmons, it would be irresponsible of me to leave you there alone, even if you don't want to come up here." Sarge was on the verge of pleading for the boy to climb  up.

Simmons bit his lip in thought. "If... If I come up, you have to promise not to send me back!" He pleaded. Well there was no way in hell Sarge was gonna send the kid back to whatever hellhole made the kid climb down  there in the first place so it was an easy choice to make.

"Deal." He watched with his heart in his throat as Simmons nimbly scaled over the side and back onto the sidewalk.

Simmons stood tense. Ready to run away if Sarge made the wrong move. He still thought Sarge might have tricked him, yet he climbed up anyway. He was too trusting, Sarge couldn't fault the  boy that. Not when it got him up here.

"So, you don't want to go back to where ever you came from." Simmons nodded. "But you have nowhere to go." Simmons nodded again. "If you are willing, I have an extra bed in Grifs room you can have. The boys messy, lazy and a smartass, but he's kind. I'm sure he won't mind sharing. Do you want it?" Sarge offered. 

Simmons rubbed at his arms, shifting from foot to foot. "You won't send me home?" He asked hesitantly.

"No, I won't send you home. You have my word." He promised.

"Then, yes, I'd like to stay with you sir." The boy gave a small relieved smile. Still tensing when Sarge approached him.

"You can call me Sarge." He introduced, holding out his hand.

"Richard... But I prefer Simmons sir." The boy said, shaking Sarge's hand.

"How old are you Simmons?" He asked as he motioned the boy to start walking.

"Fourteen sir."

So not twelve. The boy was small but awkwardly proportioned. He had a lot still to grow Sarge guessed. 

"Pretty young. You in school?" Sarge figured he'd have to sign the boy up. It would be impossible to send him to his current school. Sarge doubted he could afford it anyway. Simmons had the air of an upper class kid all over him.

"I'm tutored, sir." He answered. He seemed embarrassed to admit it. "My dad said regular school will only distract me from true  knowledge, and true enlightenment ... I'm not sure what he meant by that."

Sarge nodded, thinking it over. His dad sounded like he said a lot of things. Not all of them good. But Simmons  seemed well adjusted enough. If a little odd. The 'sir' thing was a bit off putting. It reminded Sarge too much of the war, but if it made the kid comfortable who was he to stop  him.  The only problems he foresaw were Simmons and Grif getting along. Schooling. And of course what would happen if Simmons family came looking for him. Or at least sent someone to look for him.  It was a shame  Sarge was a man of his word, if he told the kid he could stay then he would damn well let  him.

It wouldn't be the first time he's had to hide someone from their own family. He just hoped Simmons' family wasn't as crazy as Church's.


	6. Franklin Delano Donut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2544:  
> A year and three months later Donut joined the family.

 A year and three months later Donut joined the family.

 Simmons and Grif found him sleeping in an alley. Propped up against a metal crate. He was dirty but not like someone who's been on the street for a while. His clothes were still fairly clean. And his blond hair still styled. 

He could have been just some kid passed out high on cemz. If it weren't for the bag under his arm. A bright pink duffle bag that had seen better days.

"You should wake him up." Grif nudged Simmons. His voice barely a whisper so they didn't startle the kid.

"What? Why me?" Simmons said following suit.

"Your better with people." He shrugged.

"Thats a fucking lie and you know it!" Simmons hissed, voice raising.

"Hey, I'm not the one who sweet talked his way onto the mathletes. Then sweet talked his friend, me, into kitchen duties on Wednesday  'cause he knows said friend likes to sneak cookies from the kitchen. That was all you."  Grif  replied with a smirk. He loved riling the other boy up.

"I literally just asked! I walked into the office and asked for applications! And you asked me to get you on kitchen duty specifically on Wednesday! None of that is sweet talking or people skills!" He was shouting.

Both had forgotten the boy they had found. Until he spoke up.

"Oh wow, I don't think I've met two people so in love before." He  sighed  with a big grin plastered on his face.

Both heads snapped to him.

"No fucking way, not another one." Grif said in disbelief just as Simmons sputtered "In Love?!"

"Sorry, another what?" The boy asked. Smile still pasted on his face.

"Another Tucker." Grif huffed. Turning away from the kid to kick at Simmons leg. Simmons snapped out of his small freak out and kicked him back.

"Who's Tucker?" The boy asked as he stood. Bag still clutched in his hand.

"Our friend. You'll meet him soon enough." Simmons answered this time.

"Why would I do that?" The boy was confused now.  Grif  could see it in his face.

"Cause we're taking you home. You look like you need a place to stay." He shrugged. Simmons scowled and kicked him again.

"What this idiot means is, our friend Lopez-"

"I don't think friend is the right word."  Grif muttered.

" -moved out of Sarge's apartment so we have an empty room you can  have, if you want it ." Simmons finished explaining around Grif's muttering.

"Who says I don't want the room?"  Grif argued. Simmons scowled at him. 

He did that a lot for someone in love, the boy thought.

"Cause you're too lazy to move your shit."

"True, then why don't you take the room?"

"Cause I'm comfortable in  ours ."

"Right, you just can't stand the thought of being far away from me."

"Far away from you? It's a wall away!"

"But you don't deny you'd miss me?"

"Grif I swear to god-"

"Uh, sorry to interrupt... Again, but why are you offering to let a complete stranger move in? A homeless one at that." The boy cut in. Interested in what they were arguing about but confused by what was being offered.

"Why wouldn't we?" Grif rebutted. Looking to Simmons. "Why wouldn't we Simmons?"

"I don't know? I mean it seems like the right thing to do. Sarge did it for us." Simmons answered awkwardly.

"Yeah, that's why we're not, not  going to offer you a place to stay." Grif nodded to himself.

" I don't know what to say." The boy whispered. He let go of his bag, swooping both into a hug. He was surprisingly strong.

"Oh god he's a hugger!" Grif whispered horrified. Looking over at an equally horrified Simmons. "What have we done?"

"Is this Sarge guy going to be mad?" Donut didn't think to ask until they were standing outside the building.

"No... Well not mad at you. It's us he'll be mad at." Simmons answered honestly. Donut had a feeling the boy couldn't lie very well.

"But he's always grumpy so its fine." Grif shrugged. Swiping open the door. He paused when he noticed that Donut wasn't moving. He glanced at Simmons who shrugged at him. Simmons was right, he really wasn't a people person. "He'll be fine with you. It's okay to be nervous Donut, but Sarge is just a grumpy old man. He's not going to make you leave. In fact I think its been driving him crazy only having me and Simmons to talk to."

"It's gonna be okay." Simmons smiled nudging Donut through the doorway.

He followed the two down the hallway till they stopped in front of a bright red painted door. As Simmons ushered him in and shut the door a man in his  mid  twenties rounded the corner from the kitchen.

"Your late! I thought I'd have to round up the blues and start a search party!" The man snapped, not looking up from the cookbook he held in one hand. "I was forced to take over Grif's job and start dinner." 

"Sorry Sarge we had to make a pit stop to pick someone up." Grif said snatching the cookbook from his hand and setting it on the bar.

" Grif! It's rude to rip things out of people's hands I thought I taught you better!" The man said affronted.

"When you said grumpy old man this isn't what I imagined." Donut instantly regretted blurting out the words. The man focused in on him like a laser.

"A friend from school? You didn't ask if anyone could stay the night. Hell I didn't know two you had friends." Sarge asked with a raised brow.

"Um, no actually. We... Well... Grif..." Simmons fidgited. Planting himself next to Donut.

"He's homeless Sarge. We figured since Lopez moved out we had an extra room he could take."  Grif explained. Coming to stand on Donuts other side.

Sarge scowled. "You didn't talk to me."

"We're sorry sir." Simmons muttered nervously. "We didn't want to just leave him there. It's getting colder at night, he could have gotten sick."

"Or worse." Grif agreed.

Sarge looked between them before his eyes settled back on Donut. "Well son what's yer name?"

"Donut sir.  Franklin Delano Donut."

"Well Donut I know these two wouldn't lie to me, so if you have nowhere to stay your welcome here. I have a few rules, three of them these two knuckleheads broke, I'll explain them over dinner. Until then your rooms the first one on the right, and the bathrooms the second on the left."

Donut was speechless. This man was really going to let him stay? " Tha -thank you!" He cried.  Dropping his bag on the floor and rushing to give the man a hug. Sarge floundering for a moment before patting the boy on the back. He looked over the boys shoulders at the other two.

Both boys shrugged.

"Don't mention it." Sarge said awkwardly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we come to the end of part one/ act one.  
> Part One/ Act two should be up in in a few days, i'll have have to start posting irregularly then due to a few missing chunks.  
> I won't make you wait too long, promise.


End file.
